


Devilish

by DestielTheShipOfDreams



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 11, Casifer, Castiel Has Self-Worth Issues, Deanial, Fix-It, Lucifer (Supernatural) is a Little Shit, Lucifer Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, POV First Person, POV Multiple, Unresolved Sexual Tension, dean tells cas that he's not expendable, mediocre fic tbh, suggested Deanifer, suggested Samifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 09:18:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10941501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestielTheShipOfDreams/pseuds/DestielTheShipOfDreams
Summary: Basically a rough sketch of how my ideal show-viable scenario for how 'casifer' might have played out. Features Luci's cruel sense of humour. Canon-compliant to S11E10 & promo for E11. Rated for swearing.





	1. Dean

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back before 11x11 aired, based on the promo and what I wanted out of the casifer storyline. It's fairly short and ends kinda abruptly but I still wish something like this had happened XD I think I predicted the case finding scene pretty well! I've moved this from ff.net but I re-edited it a little for improvements, nothing major.

I heave a yawn as I wander into the control room, idly scratching the back of my head and sipping my mug of coffee. It’s weird feeling so relaxed this morning, considering we’re neck deep in shit as usual. But after all, it’s the morning after dragging my brother out of Hell. Again. I can think about Amara and all the crap she comes with later on. Right now, I just want to sit and enjoy knowing that Sammy is safe in bed, snoring his gigantic face off.

 

My mind drifts as I lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling far above me. I can never look up without thinking of Cas, even though I know he’s never really upstairs any more. Earth is more his home now. I just wish that he’d progress to calling the bunker home and actually be here more often, but he’s always been an enigmatic little bastard. I don’t tend to question it when he goes off and does his own thing, even if his absence worries me more than I’d like to admit.

 

My gaze floats down from the ceiling to the balcony and I jump, swearing loudly and almost spilling coffee all over myself. I gaze angrily up into clear blue eyes. Cas is standing silently at the railings by the front door, staring down at me with an oddly speculative look in those familiar eyes. How long has he been lurking up there? What a fucking weirdo.

 

“Cas, what the hell?” I snap, setting my coffee down and taking a deep breath. He blinks at me and gives a small, secret smile before turning and making his way down the stairs. I watch him, feeling glad that he’s here even though he made a creepy entrance. Creepy entrances are kind of his thing, and anything that’s Cas is pretty much OK with me. Besides, I haven’t had a chance to just chill out with him lately. Deep down, I’ve sort of missed him. So I’m smiling slightly by the time he reaches my level, standing on the other side of the table and surveying me calmly.

 

“Hello, Dean,” comes the old greeting, and my smile turns to a grin.

 

“Hey, man. Hell of a day yesterday. Ha, literally. But yeah, thanks for helping out.”

 

Cas smirks, actually smirks, and my stomach does a strange flop. I stare at him as he shrugs, his gaze wandering across the room instead of holding mine like usual.

 

“That’s what I do.”

 

My smile has faded. “Yeah, well, thanks anyway. You here about something or just dropping in?”

 

Cas finally looks back at me, his expression mostly blank but with a hint of that smirk still playing about his full lips. It’s distracting and it makes me uncomfortable, as well as a little warm. He pauses before replying.

 

“Well, I came to check on you guys. Is Sam around?”

 

I shake my head. “Nah, still asleep. Tussling with that asshole Lucifer really took it out of him.”

 

The smirk finally disappears and Cas looks almost annoyed at me, though I can’t work out why. He nods slowly. “Yes, I imagine it did. Well, I have some... business to take care of. I’ll drop in some other time.”

 

He turns away as he speaks the last part, eyes sliding easily away from mine, shoulders relaxed and movements looser than usual. I stand up, confused by his manner and embarrassingly disappointed that he’s not staying for a bit. I wanted to talk to him. I don’t know what about, but I wanted to.

 

“Leaving so soon?” I can hear the strain in my own voice, even through the fake smile I put on. He hums an affirmative and begins to climb the stairs without looking back at me. I watch him and I can feel the pout on my own lips. What is he pissed off about and why is he acting so weird? He reaches the balcony and turns to look down at me, giving a faint, cool smile.

 

“See you later, Dean. Say hi to Sammy for me.”

 

I mumble agreement as he swishes through the front door, letting it slam shut behind him. Sitting heavily back in my chair, I stare moodily at the world map in front of me, glaring a hole in central Russia. Since when was Cas an asshole? And when did he start using my nickname for Sam? I sigh and suppose that actually, both of these things can probably be attributed to Cas’s tendency to mimic me. He’s been picking up more and more of my phrases and attitudes over the years; normally I just think it's kinda cute.

 

Maybe he’s starting to try copying my less desirable traits too, like rudeness and maintaining a strict emotional distance. The thought is sour and unwelcome. I once told Cas ‘don’t ever change’ and I meant it. I like Cas as an earnest, dorky social disaster. This new casual, standoffish persona of his is probably a natural development as he tries to cope with the human world and our crazy lives, but still. I don’t like it at all.

 

I’m still sulking there half an hour later when I hear faint music coming from elsewhere in the bunker. I smile tiredly, grabbing my mug and stretching as I clamber to my feet. Sam must be up.

 

Sure enough, I find him in the kitchen, already dressed where I’m still in my robe. He’s blitzing a smoothie, yawning and nodding along to the indie crap blasting out of his phone. He grins at me as I walk in and toss him a greeting. It’s a domestic, cheerful scene... except for the gun lying next to the smoothie maker. I frown at it as I lean against the counter, having washed and dried my mug. Sam finishes making the drink and pours it out into a tall glass, offering me the bit left in the machine. I give him an unimpressed look and he huffs a laugh, sipping on his ultra healthy, low fat breakfast. My eyes wander back to the gun behind him.

 

“Nervous?” I ask knowingly, gesturing at the weapon. He shrugs without looking at it, not meeting my eyes.

 

“A bit. Yesterday was stressful, to say the least.”

 

I nod thoughtfully. “You need a break from this Darkness crap. All this world-hanging-in-the-balance business... It gets to you.”

 

He looks up and raises his eyebrows, reassuringly sassy. “Oh, and it doesn’t get to you?”

 

“A bit,” I concede, shrugging. I grab the newspapers on the counter beside me, picking them up and beginning to flick through them. I continue speaking as I do so. “We need to stop thinking about it for a little while. It’ll still be there to come back to. Always is.”

 

Sam chugs back the last of his smoothie and drops the glass into the sink before picking up his gun and double checking that it’s loaded. I shake my head, lips pressed together. “Dude, you are way too on edge. You don’t need to carry that thing around in here.”

 

“Makes me feel better,” he mutters, turning away from me with a slight frown on his face. I sigh and return to perusing the papers.

 

“I need to find us a case,” I state, scanning articles with practiced ease. Sam finally sets the gun back down and turns back to me, folding his long arms protectively around himself. It hurts to see him so damaged but at least he’s keeping it together. He’ll be OK once I get him back into the familiar routine of a hunt. My gaze catches on a fairly local story and I straighten, making a triumphant noise.

 

“Here!” I exclaim, turning the paper to show Sam. “Beloit, not far from here. Wouldn’t even need to get a motel room. Ghost cat.”

 

“Ghost cat?” repeats Sam in disbelief, grabbing the paper. I grin at his immediate interest in the case. This’ll be good for us. We’re exactly the kind of fuck-ups that think of killing a ghostly feline as a relaxing break.

 

“Come on, you know you want to,” I encourage, and Sam smiles affectionately at me, laying the paper down and linking his fingers behind his back for a stretch.

 

“OK,” he finally relents. “Ghost cat it is.”

 

I chuckle at him but my mirth fades with his next words: “What about Cas?”

 

My stomach drops as I think of my encounter with the angel earlier on. Cas can’t come with us, not if he’s acting weird. This trip is about Sam and when Cas is around, it becomes about Cas. Not because he demands attention, but because I can’t seem to to help focusing on him and thinking about him and damn it, he was rude to me. Asshole barely even looked at me!

 

“Cas?” I shake my head, unable to keep some of my puzzlement off of my face, not looking Sam in the eye. “Something a little off about him.”

 

“How so?”

 

I shrug, unsure if I’m overreacting or over-analysing. Probably. “He came by earlier and he was, I don’t know, off. Maybe he’s stressed or maybe it’s some angel crap he has going on. I don’t know, but he’s just not himself right now.”

 

I finally look back up at Sam, who’s frowning in concern. “Huh. OK, well, if he keeps acting weird, we’ll talk to him. Just keep an eye on him.”

 

I nod, still feeling stupidly upset and annoyed about Cas’s behaviour. Wanting to forget about it for a while, I go get dressed and grab the car keys. Sam and I are on the road fifteen minutes later, rock music blaring and sun shining in the sky. Castiel is shoved far, far into the back of my mind.


	2. Lucifer

Playing Castiel is the most fun I’ve had in a while. Possession of any vessel presents endless opportunities for mischief, but another angel? It’s been a long time. Too long.

 

Of course, little Cassie is especially delicious. Poor, tortured, heartbroken idiot. His memories aren’t worth spending too much time on, but I’ve got the basics. Daddy issues - well, I can sympathise there - are just the beginning. He misses Heaven and his self-image is shot to pieces; something about being ‘expendable’. Well, I can see why he’d think that, he seems very expendable to me.

 

And of course, Dean Winchester. I’ve quickly discovered that inside Castiel’s bleak, self-hating mind, all roads lead to Dean. He’s not even overly unhappy about being in love with a human who sees him as a tool, although he’s certainly pretty torn up about that too. He’s mostly unhappy because Dean is unhappy. It’s embarrassing, really. He’s so obsessed with Dean Fucking Winchester that you’d think the plaid-clad bastard was his true vessel; Cassie certainly outdoes Michael in the Dean fan club stakes.

 

The whole thing is so hilarious that I’ve decided to keep up my cover for a while and see if I can’t mess with Deano’s mind a bit. Surely Sammy’s stalwart brother has noticed Castiel panting after him? Maybe he even likes it. It’s quite the ego boost. Yeah, Cassie should provide some good old-fashioned fun, even if he’s raging at me inside his own head the entire time. Father above, he just will not shut up.

 

_“Lucifer. Lucifer! Lucifer, lying to them was not part of the plan.”_

_“We didn’t have a plan, amigo. You spread your legs without so much as a pick-up line from me. Are you always this easy?”_

_“I said yes to you because you were supposed to help rid the world of Amara. So do it!”_

_“In due time. Besides, this is fun! Have they stopped having fun up in Heaven, Castiel? Is it banned?”_

_“Using my body as a puppet-”_

_“Is what all angels do. He who is without sin, all that. Don’t be casting those stones at me, you hypocrite.”_

_“Lucifer! I gave my vessel to you freely, but tell Sam and Dean who you are!”_

_“Yeah, yeah. I will, but why do it the boring way? Don’t you want to know how long it takes darling Dean to figure out that his boyfriend’s been hijacked?”_

_“Dean won’t notice. You’re a good actor.”_

_“We’ll see, Cassie.”_

__

As it turns out, I’m pretty sure that Dean notices something off about me as soon as I go visit the bunker. I should have worked a bit harder on the mannerisms and I definitely slipped up on the eye contact. Oh well; things to improve on for my next performance.

 

After a delightful but busy day of fucking shit up because I’ve been away from work for way too long, I decide to drop back into the bunker. Maybe Sam will be awake this time. Maybe I can test Dean out and see if he’s got an angel fetish after all. The possibilities are endless. I ignore Castiel bitching at me about lying being wrong- who does he think I am? - as I unlock the door and wander in, descending the stairs at a light jog. Feels good to be in a physical body again.

 

Yet again, it’s just Dean. He’s wearing a suit and sitting at the library table, flipping through a book on animal possession. He glances up as I walk in, green eyes widening in suprise. He leans back in his chair, watching me with a suspicious gaze. Trying to keep my arms from moving around too much, I fix him with my best Castiel face, all apologetic blue eyes and set mouth.

 

“Hello, Dean,” I drone out the old greeting, setting my voice to gravelly and watching Dean relax slightly. He smiles at me. Result!

 

“Hey, Cas.” His voice is low and smooth and I imagine it must have quite the warming effect on my vessel when Cassie is behind the wheel. I nod at him and my eyes naturally go to flick away, but I notice Dean’s head twitch slightly, as though he’s trying to recapture my gaze. Right, of course. The staring. Sending a mocking comment to an incensed Castiel, I stare into Dean’s eyes for a long moment, wondering how long is sufficient before a conversation might ensue. Several seconds pass before Dean speaks again.

 

“You OK, man?” The concern in his voice is far more intense than I would have expected. Looking at the thoughts and feelings floating around my borrowed head space, I’d have thought Dean barely spared a thought for his pet angel, let alone cared deeply about his welfare. Castiel appears to have totally dismissed the idea of Dean returning his feelings. Is it because Dean exclusively screws women? Ugh, humans.

 

I’ve always found gender preference baffling. I know that some angels do develop attraction to humans - I’m wearing one such angel - but it’s considered pretty distasteful and odd. They’re not only a different species, but they’re fucking pathetic. Barely worth a second glance, let alone actual emotions. And sex is a fun perk of having a vessel, but humans all look so similar anyway. How does anyone care enough about the physical details of humans to only fuck one sort?

 

Sighing internally, I focus on the interaction I’m having. Dean asked me if I’m OK. I hold his gaze and nod, smiling a little in the way that I noticed made his breathing pick up earlier. Is that not a sign of attraction? Damn, I hope so, that would just be too much fun.

 

“Where’s Sam?” I ask. Dean frowns at me.

 

“He’s in the shower. Why, do you need to speak to him?”

 

I shrug. “Not really. How was your day?”

 

I wonder what Dean’s face would look like if I’d added a ‘honey’ to the end of that sentence. Castiel is cringing inside of me in a very human way. At least he can really grasp how much I’m going to humiliate him. It’d be a shame if this was wasted on him. Dean has finally looked away from me and is rambling about being on some hunting case all day. I know about the hunting stuff. Sam would sometimes talk about it, tell me things, open up as though I was his therapist rather than his torturer. I knew his entire fucking life story. Him and Dean’s.

 

Dean stands up as he talks, stretching and then gesturing to the open book in front of him, making a frustrated comment about being unable to find some herb for a special exorcism spell. I’m removing Castiel’s infernal coat as he speaks and when he turns to look at me, I’m shrugging off the suit jacket too. His voice trails off and he looks me up and down, skin flushing slightly, breath catching. Bingo.

 

_“Oh, Cassie. Are you blind?”_

_“What? No. Is my vessel having vision problems?”_

 

I don’t answer. I smile into Dean’s eyes as I unbutton one wrist and begin rolling up the sleeve. He swallows as he watches me do so. It’s not until I’m rolling up the other sleeve that he appears able to speak.

 

“You, uh, you a bit warm, Cas?”

 

Of course I’m not warm. One, I’m me, so the room is actually chillier than it was before I walked in. Two, I’m a fucking angel. But Dean Winchester is not known for his intellect. I step closer to him, loosening my tie casually with one hand and running the fingers of the other through Castiel’s soft, side-swept hair.

 

“No, Dean, I’m fine.”

 

He stares at me with his mouth open and nods slowly. Clearing his throat, he looks back down at the book. “Well, uh, OK. Um. I know you’re probably thinking that we’ve got bigger fish to fry, why are we hunting... But we just needed a break. Sam especially.”

 

Dean looks back up, frowning. “He’s pretty messed up, Cas. Lucifer terrifies him.”

 

I hold back the smug smile that threatens to overtake my controlled mask. Damn right I scare him. I scare everyone. That’s sort of my specialty. Tilting my head in a classic Castiel pose, I take another step closer, making sure than my face is still serious. “Lucifer is a frightening angel. He’s powerful, dangerous, intelligent... ”

 

Dean is staring at me with pink cheeks and dilated pupils, which even I can recognise as desire, despite the topic of conversation. Or possibly because of? Maybe I was right about the angel fetish thing. I lean towards Dean as though sharing a secret with him. “I’m not sure that we did do the right thing, leaving Lucifer down there. He could be very instrumental in defeating the Darkness.”

 

Dean jerks as though I’ve slapped him. “You think Sam should have said yes?”

 

I shake my head quickly. “No, no, not that. Of course not Sam. But if there was another way to release Lucifer? I just think that we might need him.”

 

Dean is frowning heavily at me and I idly wonder if he’s starting to put the pieces together. He speaks slowly as though I’m a bit stupid. “Cas, Lucifer is evil. He wants humanity gone. He can’t be trusted.”

 

I could snap his neck, just like Rowena’s. It’s a tempting thought and I suggest it to Castiel, wincing at his furious, desperate tirade against me in response. For a moment, I feel him buck against my control and I gasp, staggering a little, almost into Dean’s arms. How poetic. He’s worried, lightly touching my shoulders before pulling away, his panicked voice in my ear asking if I’m alright. I assure him that I’m fine as I straighten up, our faces inches apart, and I watch with detached interest as he stares at my mouth. One track mind, this one.

 

_“Do not pull that shit again, Castiel.”_

_“If you hurt Dean- if you hurt either of them-”_

_“Yeah, yeah, I know. Retribution. Punishment. Yadda yadda yah.”_

_“I mean it. Don’t even think about harming them, Lucifer.”_

_“Broken record. Say, check out his eyelashes. You ever stood this close to ole Deano before? Of course you have. He’s very pretty, don’t you think?”_

_“Go screw yourself.”_

_“Is that a request? Naughty, naughty. Wouldn’t you prefer I screw Dean? I think I could manage it, as a gift of thanks to you.”_

_“Dean wouldn’t- don’t you dare even-”_

__

Cutting off Castiel’s spluttering inside my head, I smile warmly at Dean, who looks sort of hypnotised and appears to be holding his breath. I take pity on him and step back, watching him exhale shakily, looking away again. Are all humans this ruled by their emotions and desires? Sam always seemed a bit more on top of things, but even he was a mess. I try to think back to Nick, as he was when I got him to say yes to me. He was overly emotional too; it was what made him so easy to manipulate. Humans are just such crap.

 

“Dean, I know that Lucifer isn’t to be trusted,” I say softly, giving him Castiel’s wide, trustworthy baby blues. “I just think that we should keep open minds when we’re dealing with something like the Darkness. And I know that you’re worried about Sam. I am too. But maybe going back into Hell was good for him.”

 

Dean is hooked on my every word, but at the last part his brows furrow in confusion. “What? How?”

 

“He had a lot of issues to do with Lucifer and the Cage,” I reply, my voice low and smooth. “This whole experience might have been an opportunity for him to realise that he’s stronger because of everything he’s been through, not weaker. Going back down there could be the push he’s been needing to find out who he really is.”

 

Dean has been frowning at his shoes as I speak. I raise my left hand and clap it onto his shoulder, squeezing gently. “This could be a good thing.”

 

Dean’s eyes dart first to my hand and then up to me, but his expression is oddly not as enthralled as I’d expected. Instead, he looks mildly alarmed and his frown wanders off to the side, as though he’s lost in thought. I watch him intently for a moment, wondering if I might be able to read his thoughts if I concentrate. I’m a bit rusty.

 

“Cas, something’s different about you,” Dean says suddenly, looking me directly in the eyes. “Anything you wanna talk about?”

 

I raise my eyebrows. He’s close to realising. If I’m going to have my fun properly and really piss Castiel off, I ought to just get on with it. Licking my lips slowly, I give Dean my most lustful expression (I imagine it suits Cassie quite well) and watch his mind stutter to a halt as I lean closer, gripping his shoulder tightly...

 

“Hey, guys, what’s up?”

 

I pull back immediately, smirking as Sam wanders in, having clearly failed to pick up on the magical moment he’s interrupted. I’m not too bothered but Dean looks torn between shock and bitter disappointment. Clapping him heartily on the shoulder, I wink at him and stroll past, leaving him frozen to the spot. Classic.

 

“Well, hello, Sam!” I grin at my favourite human, who’s ruffling his own damp hair as he folds into a chair. He smiles easily back at me, although the smile flickers as I settle on the edge of the table next to him, closer than probably necessary. He glances at Dean as though worried he might be offended so I shift a little closer, smiling down at Sam as though he’s the best thing I’ve seen all day. I can feel Dean’s confusion and irritation without even looking at him.

 

“Um, hey, Cas,” mumbles Sam, glancing up at me and seeming slightly worried. I run my eyes slowly up and down Sam’s long frame, hearing both brothers inhale sharply. Messing with one was fun, messing with the other would have been fun too, but messing with them both together? Excellent.

 

“How are you feeling, Sam?” I ask concernedly. “I know you must be pretty shaken up.”

 

Sam nods, his face unsure as he stares at me. “Yeah, I am a bit. Hell really takes it out of me, I guess.”

 

I cluck sympathetically. “Of course.”

 

Dean is standing on Sam’s other side and he clears his throat loudly, doing a crap job of pretending he’s not petty and jealous. I ignore him. “Say, Sammy, Dean and I were just saying that maybe we were a bit hasty about Lucifer.”

 

“What?” snaps Dean. “You said that, not me!”

 

“Hush, Dean, the grown ups are talking,” I say without looking at him, winking at Sam. Dean splutters and Sam’s mouth drops open. I continue speaking. “See, Lucifer is kind of a badass, and kind of the only one who can stop Aunty Amara. So would it really be so bad if he were to... I don’t know, escape his cage without using you as a vessel?”

 

“OK,” Dean almost shouts. “OK, something really frigging weird is going on with you, Cas. What are you talking about?”

 

I shoot him a bored glance and snap my fingers, rendering him mute. Sam is leaning back in his chair, eyeing me with horror. Yep, he’s twigged. I give him a shit-eating grin and spread my hands out as though I’m about to take a bow. “Hey, Sammy. Finally made it topside!”

 

“No,” he whispers, looking queasy. His hands are clenched around the arms of his chair.

 

“Yes,” I correct him gently, tapping him once on the nose. He flinches as though I struck him. Suddenly, Dean is up in my face, green eyes furious and mouth working silently. He swings a punch at my face, although of course it barely makes my head twitch and he cringes in pain, cradling his probably fractured hand. He’s already standing between my knees, so I grip the lapels of his suit jacket and haul him closer until we’re almost nose to nose.

 

“This where you wanna be, big boy?” I purr, smirking into his wide eyes. “I’m sure Cas would be only too happy to accommodate, but I’m afraid you’re just really not my type.”

 

Enjoying the stricken look on his face, I launch him easily across the room, watching him hit the wall painfully and land in a heap. Sam scrambles to his feet, face pale but angry.

 

“Lucifer, enough,” he snarls. I smile up at him, raising my hands in surrender.

 

“Anything you say, old pal.” Standing and stretching, I smile lazily at them both. “Well, now that I’m out and proud, let’s get to work. Where should we start?”


	3. Castiel

It’s been a long three weeks. After revealing to Sam and Dean who he was, Lucifer did seem to settle into his role as vanquisher of the Darkness. It’s been hard to watch his interactions with them, though. Dean especially. I should have predicted that Lucifer would see my feelings for Dean and use them for his own fun, but it hasn’t made it any less humiliating or painful.

 

I’m not sure why, but Lucifer seems to enjoy overstepping boundaries just to annoy Dean. He’ll stand too close - the way I used to, before I learned about personal space - and laugh low, or murmur something close to his ear. Dean clearly finds it disconcerting. Or he’ll just sit and stare intently at Dean until the hunter snaps and tells him to fuck off. Or he’ll sneak up behind him and whisper ‘hello’, breath fanning across his neck. The worst time was when he caught Dean staring sadly at my face, so he leaned over and ran a hand up Dean’s thigh, winking cheekily at him. Dean left the room at that and Lucifer got a lecture from Sam about not ‘tormenting Dean about the feelings between him and Cas’.

 

I know that he meant my feelings, the ones that I never mentioned or dwelled on too much because what would be the point? I worked out early on that the human description for how I feel about Dean is not one he’d be comfortable with. It’s better for both of us to let him choose what we are to each other. He seems to have settled on friends, although recently it’s become clear to me that most of all I represent to him a powerful ally, and an advantage over enemies.

 

That’s fine. It hurts more than it should, but I’ve learned that the beauty in loving somebody is that they matter more than yourself. There’s something comforting and pure about loving Dean, putting him first, giving things up for him. It simplifies things in my chaotic mind. Saying yes to Lucifer just seemed like the best thing to do. It meant that Amara could be dealt with and Sam would be kept safe and free.

 

Of course, there are always factors and circumstances which I didn’t foresee. I certainly never imagined that Lucifer would take so long to formulate his plans and begin acting upon them.

 

Jimmy’s body is starting to deteriorate under the pressure of holding Lucifer, just like Nick’s body did. Bruising, lesions, angry red patches of skin. Really, it should have fallen apart already, but I’m slowly giving my own grace over to prolonging the vessel. My usefulness in this endeavour is finite, though. I might last maybe two more weeks before I burn out and Lucifer will have to vacate Jimmy’s body. I knew this would happen, of course. But I didn’t expect Lucifer’s casual admission of the facts to start an argument with Sam and Dean.

 

“What do you mean, time limit?” snarls Dean, jade eyes narrowed suspiciously. Sam steps up beside him, glaring at Lucifer and by default, me.

 

“Well, you see, this is not my intended vessel” replies Lucifer as though Dean is an idiot. I wish he wouldn’t keep doing that, Dean is a very intelligent person. “It’s not supposed to hold me.””

 

“Maybe you should get the hell out of it, then,” suggests Dean immediately. Lucifer rolls his eyes and looks at Sam.

 

“Your brother is so predictable.”

 

“Yeah, well, he’s got a point. If Jimmy’s body can’t handle you, why are you still able to use it?”

 

“Why do you think? Little Cassie, remember him? No sense of humour, clingy, looks a bit like me? He’s selflessly giving up his grace to keep me going. D’you think I should send him flowers? I’d be sending them to myself, of course...”

 

“Wait, what?” Dean interrupts, panic showing on his face. “He’s giving up his grace? Won’t that kill him?”

 

Lucifer snorts. “Of course, and that’ll render this vessel useless to me. It’s alright for him though. Total martyrdom! So very Cas, don’t you think?”

 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” growls Sam, fists clenched by his side. Dean looks nauseous next to him. I know that their concern is probably mostly about the deadline suddenly imposed upon them, but I think that they do still care about me enough to be shocked and hurt to hear that I’m dying. That thought doesn’t really comfort me. Lucifer chuckles darkly, eyes fixed on Sam, and I suddenly feel dread creeping up on me. He’s angling for something.

 

“Why would I bother telling you something so trivial?” Lucifer drawls. “Castiel knew this when he said yes to me, not that it matters much. This is his purpose, isn’t it? Besides, Jimmy’s body is the only one available. There’s simply no other way.”

 

No. No, he can’t be leading up to what I think he’s leading up to. Sam is frowning as though he understands, but Dean steps forward, fury blazing green fire in his eyes.

 

“If you suggest one more time,” he says very quietly, “that Cas is nothing more than a weapon or a means to an end... I swear I will trap you in holy fire and I will not rest until I’’ve got you out of his body and back into the Cage.”

 

Lucifer smirks at him but I feel stunned. I knew that Dean felt guilty about my sacrifice, but this is the first time he’s denied that I’m measured by my usefulness to the Winchesters. Doubt begins to wrap around me. Maybe he still cares the way I used to think he did. Maybe I really do mean something to him and to Sam.

 

“Well, if Castiel is so precious and special, why aren’t you trying to save him?” Lucifer asks, his voice cruel.

 

“Because we didn’t know he was dying!” Sam practically yells, throwing his arms out. “You left that little detail out! We thought that Cas was safe in there with you!”

 

“Oh, Sammy. You of all people know how it is to be locked up with me. He’s never been safe.”

 

“Cas,” Dean whispers, and I can see it, the rawness in his eyes that I glimpsed in Purgatory when he swore to get me out. He does, he does still care, how was it so easy not to see it? I surge against Lucifer’s shackles in a blind attempt to get to him, and Lucifer laughs breathlessly as he’s knocked to his knees.

 

“Oh, wow, he really wants out,” he grins manically. I curse myself and him. I just wanted a moment of control, to say goodbye and sorry and just to reach out to my family. But of course Lucifer will use anything and everything to get where he wants to be. He’s been playing a game, this whole time, and now he’s reaching his master move. Sam is watching Lucifer with a conflicted expression but Dean just looks broken. He falls to his knees too, looking into Lucifer’s eyes, and with a jolt I realise that he’s looking at me.

 

“I’m so sorry, Cas,” he rasps, his gaze sorrowful. Lucifer snorts rudely.

 

“How sweet. Doesn’t mean much, though, does it? Fact is, Castiel is destroying himself right in front of you, and there just ain’t a thing you can do to stop it, because he is my bitch. The best part is, he’s only doing it because you made him feel so worthless and pointless that he didn’t even care any more.”

 

“Stop it,” snaps Sam. Dean has bowed his head, fists clenched on his lap. I want so badly to reach out and touch his shoulder, reassure him that I forgive him, always. Lucifer’s right hand spasms on his knee and he glances at it, impressed.

 

_“Getting stronger than you have been in weeks, Romeo.”_

_“Stop torturing them. Do your job, don’t play games.”_

__

Lucifer chuckles low and reaches out, giving me a moment of control over the hand. I place it carefully over the old hand print and Dean looks up, startled and wary. Lucifer shrugs.

 

“That’s from Cas,” he explains quietly. Dean looks at the hand and draws in a ragged breath.

 

“There must be something we can do,” he says firmly. He looks at Lucifer almost pleadingly. “There must be a way to save him.”

 

Lucifer drops his hand and springs to his feet. Dean clambers up too, watching him expectantly. Lucifer grins at Sam, who is scowling at the floor.

 

“Well, I don’t know. Maybe there is. I mean, let’s look at the facts. As long as I’m in this vessel, Castiel is being used up to keep the motor running. That’s because I’m in a vessel which can’t hold me. I guess the obvious solution is, uh, duh, get me into another vessel.”

 

Dean nods, brow furrowed, and I wish I could shout at him. How can he not see where this is going? Sam is glaring straight at Lucifer now. He knows.

 

“I mean, I still need a vessel if I’m going to help you take down dearest Amara, which is after all why your precious angel bent over for me in the first place. But unless there’s another vessel around which can actually keep me afloat... I’m staying put until Castiel finally crawls into his long overdue grave.”

 

Dean snarls out an insult to Lucifer but then stops, the blood draining out of his face. “No.”

 

But Sam speaks up at the same time.

 

“Yes.”

 

Everyone goes still. I can feel the excitement bubbling up inside Lucifer. He tilts his head, alert and intent.

 

“Sammy? Is that yes yes, or yes yes?”

 

“Sam, no, don’t-” Dean whispers. Sam silences him with a look.

 

“It’s the only way to save Cas, Dean. Besides, my main reason for not saying yes before was because I didn’t want Lucifer freed from the Cage. That’s already happened, so there’s no point in avoiding it now. I am his true vessel and we’re making progress with beating Amara, I know it. This is what needs to happen.”

 

Dean shakes his head mutely, horror building in his eyes. Sam spares him one last pained look before turning to Lucifer.

 

“Yes.”

 

He speaks clearly and steadily, the fear in his expression controlled. I’m screaming at Lucifer not to do this, but he couldn’t care less. I feel the power building around me as Lucifer takes his leave, the light filling the room and overwhelming me. Even as the shackles crumble and I regain control of my vessel, it collapses and I hit the floor in a heap. Dean is shielding his eyes and Sam is almost lifted off of his feet as Lucifer’s light embraces him, filling him, stealing him. Lucifer’s distinctive, twisted, enormous wings are highlighted against the wall for a split second. Then it’s over.

 

Dean straightens up, staring in horror at what was his brother. Lucifer is examining the back of one hand, his expression unbearably smug. He lifts coldly amused hazel eyes to Dean.

 

“It’s good to be home,” he breathes. Dean steps towards him, fists tight and trembling.

 

“You bastard,” he growls. “Give my brother back.”

 

Lucifer shrugs, his smile relaxed. “Maybe someday. Depends if you’re good. Right now, I have better places to be. I’ll drop in later. Ta-ta!”

 

He waggles his fingers mockingly and disappears in a flurry of invisible feathers. A part of my mind is thinking dazedly that Lucifer and Michael must have been somehow protected from Metatron’s spell by being in the Cage; every other angel still has broken wings. Dean is staring helplessly at the spot where Lucifer vanished in Sam’s body and as always, it’s my fault. Struggling to my feet, I exhale shakily and Dean startles, whipping around to face me.

 

“Dean,” I rasp, my head heavy. “I’m so sorry.”

 

He strides towards me, his face hard and shuttered, and I brace myself for a blow. But instead, he draws me roughly into a tight hug, gripping the back of my coat with one hand and cradling my head with the other. I stand frozen for a moment before leaning into the embrace, burying my face in his shoulder. I never thought I’d touch him again. For a selfish moment, I’m grateful to Sam.

 

I barely get my tentative hands onto Dean’s back before he pulls away, staring into my eyes. “Are you alright?”

 

I nod slowly and his gaze travels over my face as though he hasn’t seen it in years.

 

“Good,” he says simply, and then he shoves me hard, face twisting in anger. I hit the table edge and catch myself before I go sprawling, leaning backwards on my hands. Dean pulls me forward by my lapels, scowling.

 

“What the hell were you thinking? Saying yes to Lucifer... why would you do that?”

 

We’re almost chest-to-chest, breath fanning across each others’ faces. I avoid his searching eyes as I reply. “It seemed like the best option.”

 

“Best option?” he growls. “That’s crap. You put us all in danger. Not to mention, you almost died.”

 

“Who cares?” I snap, finally meeting his gaze. “I was trying to get you the help you needed without sacrificing Sam. I did this for you, both of you, so what if it meant the end for me? I’m a soldier, Dean, I’m made to be expendable.”

 

My voice cracks on the last word. Dean reaches up and grips my upper arms, giving me a little shake. His eyes are bright and they hold mine with the same bruising force.

 

“Expendable?” he repeats hoarsely. He pulls me into his arms again, wrapping them around me and mumbling near my ear. “You’re not. You’re not, Cas. I’ve told you, I’ve told you so many times, don’t you listen? I need you.”

 

He lets me hold him back this time and I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing my mouth to his shoulder in an undetectable kiss. I love him so much it’s agonising. I feel exhausted by the emotions clawing at me. Actually, I just feel exhausted full stop. I sway and my legs give out, but Dean catches me, huffing in surprise. I stare up at him through half-lidded eyes, my hands loosely gripping the material against his ribs.

 

“Dean-” I say dizzily, and then I black out.


End file.
